


knives and pens

by summoner_yuna_of_besaid



Series: Gays in Space [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-23 01:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2528162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summoner_yuna_of_besaid/pseuds/summoner_yuna_of_besaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trailbreaker was doing better after he stopped drinking... but without his coping mechanism, his depression starts to overwhelm him.  Until one night it gets very bad, and he turns to the one bot he trusts to help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	knives and pens

He stares at energon welling from the wound and starts to shake.

Fists clenched, optics blurred by fluid, Trailbreaker falls back against the wall of his room, intakes rushing, before barreling out the door and into the hall.

Everything had been so much better.  After Megatron’s… intervention, he’d felt better for a while.  Given a job to do, with more control over his life once his distraction had been taken from him.  He felt –centered, more focused and able than he’d been in a while. 

And he was good at his job, and Megatron, and Ultra Magnus even, let him know it.  He should feel proud, given how far he’d come in such a short time.

He doesn’t.

In fact, he’s begun feeling that emptiness again.  It keeps yawning around him, growing at the edges of his sight, as he goes through his day by day routine.  Things will be just fine, life as normal, and suddenly those little whispers will start weaving through his mind, clawing at his thoughts and tearing through his concentration.

_You aren’t worth this.  You aren’t worth anything._

In the past, he’d only ever been able to drown the thoughts out with drink after drink.  That’s not an option anymore, and he can’t allow himself to sink further into his feelings and risk disappointing Megatron.  This is his last chance, his last shot at pulling himself together, and he can’t frag it up.

So he ignored it.  Kept pressing on day to day, doing his job, and every time those thoughts began to slip up from the depths he forced them back down, covered over them, let them simmer and bubble under the surface until the heat became too much, until like a Earth volcano it overcame him, and that evening he returned to his room, slid to the floor, and began to cry.

He was trapped then, he’d realized.  No drink to drown out the thoughts, to wash them away, he was trapped in this nightmare of bitter emptiness and hollowness with nothing to fill it.  His emotions were dulled by the ache but he could sense echoes of loneliness, frustration, pain… dulled by distance, dulled by the anxiety thrumming under his mesh.

That was when the thought hit him. 

It had been sparked by a simply reflection, by the catching of light in the mirror of his washroom.  It was a nice space he had, now, came with his new title.  A berthroom with plenty of space and a private wash rack.  And there, in that space, was a mirror. 

He had stared into the mirror thoughts whirring and darkened by the clouds enveloping him, and he’d thought:  if he couldn’t take energon in, … perhaps he could let energon out.  Let it out and let it flow away and take all the darkness with it, let his mesh spark with the pain and make him feel something again.

Before he’d realized what he’d been thinking, Trailbreaker stood, shattered the mirror, and took a piece of it to the mesh beneath the armor on his arm.

That is how he came to this panicked state, this realization that he had just purposefully hurt himself, cut a line the length of his servo through his mesh.  He had purposefully hurt himself and that is not okay and he has no idea what to do about it, knows nothing except he’s terrified and panicked and he hates himself more than ever –

He can’t go to Ratchet, no oh no.  He can’t face the medic’s abrasive temper now, and he can’t go looking for First Aid in the med bay for fear that Ratchet will be there.  No, he can’t… he could go to Rung?  But he barely knew the guy… Ultra Magnus would probably cite regulations about injury to him, and Rodimus would kick him out of his office for being a “pansy”…

_You could go to Megatron._

What, take this ridiculous melodrama of his to the Captain?   Trailbreaker almost laughed through his tears.  Like he could bother Megatron with a silly cut.  And yet his peds were already taking him in that direction, his body moving towards the Captain’s cabin as if they were magnetic opposites drawn together.

Coming to the door, Trailbreaker knocks, fidgeting from ped to ped while clutching his injured arm to his chest as if it were broken rather than merely cut.  A rush of something flooded his head and made him light-headed, made him feel like his whole body was floating and this was such a terrible idea and he was such an idiot, he should turn around and hide and never tell anyone again –

_Or you could do it again, the pain, it helps, you know it helps, you could do it again –_

A sob escapes Trailbreaker’s throat, his head dropping.  He could… he could, it would help him cope, and he could keep pretending, and make everyone proud ( _make Megatron proud of him_ ), and he wouldn’t drink ( _he’d just destroy himself in a different way),_ and he half turns to leave –

“Trailbreaker?”

Stiffens, stills, clings to his arm as if it is a proof of guilt, and it is.  His weakness, his shame, the physical manifestation of the nastiness, the poisonous ruin of his spark.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, turning his back to Megatron and beginning to rush away.  He gives no explanation, can give none, vocalization turning to static as he tries to escape.  But his strides can’t match to Megatron’s, and the larger bot clasps his shoulder tight in the next instant.

“Trailbreaker, what’s happened?  Are you hurt?”

He doesn’t fight, doesn’t try to escape because the will to make the effort just isn’t there.  So he stands numbly clinging to his arm and staring blankly off, almost catatonic, and the world around him blurs at the edges and it’s as if he’s there but not really.

The other moves in front of him, gentle servos trailing over his armor until one is on either of his shoulders.  The movement brings Trailbreaker’s blank gaze even with Megatron’s brand.  Just as gently, the Captain’s servos pull his arms forward, and Trailbreaker doesn’t try to stop him, his limbs trembling as his wound is displayed.

The wound isn’t bad, but still Megatron seems disturbed, optics narrowed.  “Who did this?”  He turns to Trailbreaker, and when he doesn’t answer, sighs.  “Let’s get you to the Med Bay –“

“No!”  Fear, absolute terror rips through the fog and for a moment he is there, completely, because he can’t go to the medbay, no, please – he struggles against Megatron’s hold, but the older bot simply lets him go, hands held up.

“Alright, we won’t go to the Med Bay.”  Megatron told him evenly.  “… is that where this happened?  Did someone in the Med Bay attack you?”

Through the murkiness in his panicked mind it occurs to Trailbreaker that Megatron is looking for something, that the way he says “attack” has implications darker than they seem… and he can’t let the bot be misled, he can’t let him think that someone on the ship has committed some wrong, other than – other than him.

So he says the truth.  Says it quiet, tinged with horror and shame, shaking head to toe.

A sigh.  “Trailbreaker, I can’t hear you.”

“I did it.”

He forces his helm up terrified to meet Megatron’s optics so he looks past them.  Still in his peripheral vision he can seem them but he’s not looking at them so he can pretend he doesn’t see what surely must be anger at him, no doubt.

“I assume this was not an accident?”

“N – No.”  Hunkering down, Trailbreaker gnaws at his lip.  “I’m sorry, this was stupid, I’ll just go –“

He hardly makes a step before an arm takes gentle but firm hold of his upper shoulder, a digit rubbing circles into his armor.  “Trailbreaker, it’s alright.”  He murmurs, close, but leaving some space between them.  There’s a moment’s hesitation, then the Captain draws him towards his door.  “Come sit down, let’s get you looked at.”

So he follows, and he sits, in numb emptiness as Megatron guides him to the chair, gently presses him into it, and unfolds his arms enough that he can care for the wound.  With a soft touch he presses gel over the injury, rubbing it in with warm circling touches of his servos, his head inclined, eyes narrowed and lips drawn thin, obviously irritated.  Trailbreaker feels the shattered remains of his spark crumbling further. 

When the wound is prepped and cleaned, Megatron stands, approaches the intercom, and requests some normal energon for a “guest” in his cabin.

“I’d offer you some of mine, but as you’ve learned before,” The Captain began.  “It is barely palatable.”

Then, Megatron crosses back to his desk, sits down behind it, leans back in the chair with an elbow on each arm, servos intertwined under his chin.

Trailbreaker pointedly ignores his gaze.

Time passes; they remain in quiet peace, and Trailbreaker isn’t sure if that’s helping or hurting his anxiety.  He can finally take his intakes in a little more peaceably, but for each moment he waits under Megatron’s stern eyes for his rebuke he feels his spark tighten further.  Why did he ever think he should come here, he’s ruined everything, now he’s got nothing left…

“I’m sorry.”

For a moment, Trailbreaker has to wonder if he had spoken without realizing, before realizing he doesn’t have a voice of such a rumbling timbre.  Helm snapping up, Trailbreaker meets Megatron’s optics and sees them darkened.

“I – what?”   Voicebox cracking, Trailbreaker fidgets. 

“I tried to help you and instead I made things worse.”  The mech sighs, servos lowering to his lap.  “I took away your method of coping and left you to handle the fallout yourself.  I –“  The Captain turns, gaze lowering.  “I was a fool to think that your troubles with drink were rooted simply in overindulgence and not some deeper trouble that would manifest elsewhere if left alone.”

What in the world…?  “What?”

Stammering, Trailbreaker scoots forward in the seat.  “But I – you  - I –“ _I’m the idiot, I’m the fragging failure that can’t function like a normal bot, this is all my fault –_

“Trailbreaker,” Suddenly the barrier between them is gone and Megatron is kneeling before him on the floor of the office.  “Whatever the source of this is, whatever is causing you this pain _, it is not your fault_.  You are not to blame here.”

“But I –“  He stops, afraid he’s interrupted, but Megatron stays silent, just watching him.  “What the frag is wrong with me?  Why does this keep happening?  Why can’t I just – “  But what he wants is so unobtainable he’s not sure how to say it or define it, other than to say everything in life, all the contentment and peace and joy and highs and lows everyone else seems to have which eludes him, because his life has become a series of exhausted days and empty nights stuck in darkness.

“Obviously there is something going on here.  I won’t ask you to go to the Med Bay –“ He stiffens at the thought, and Megatron seems to notice, moving his servos to take hold of Trailbreaker’s, squeezing gently.  “But I must insist that you begin to see Rung regularly.  It is clear to me that you need some help and right now you’re not getting it.”

“I… okay.”  This is what his captain wants, he can do it.  He can make Megatron proud.  “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need for that.”  The mech’s voice sounds almost gently chiding, soft and familiar, and the sound makes Trailbreaker smile.  He’s… feeling better.  The world is shifting back into focus, his frame cooling, the panic that overwhelmed him subsiding into a feeling of oversensitivity, from the extent of his panicked state.  He thinks to look at Megatron, to thank him for all this, when suddenly the door to the office slides open.

“Somebody call for some ener – oh.”

Trailbreaker freezes at the sound of Swerve’s voice.  _Oh, no_.  Not Swerve.  Of all the bots in the world it could be, it had to be Swerve.

“Learn to use the door chimes, Swerve.”  Megatron grumbles as he stands quickly moving his frame in front of the arm of Trailbreaker’s chair.  The security mech turns, finding his gaze is now evenly level with Megatron’s aft, and color rises to his cheeks.  What is the mech doing?

“Sorry, sorry, you know me, I act and I act again and maybe I think later, sometimes, anyway who’s the lucky bot having some one-on-one time with the genocidal maniac, huh?”  Swerve stands on the tips of his peds to see Trailbreaker’s helm above the chair.  “Oooh!  Hey Breaky!  Didn’t know you were into Bigger mechs, heh!”

The blush intensifies brightly.  He realizes what Swerve’s implying and feels his spark jump.  “Oh, we’re not – I mean, I’m not trying to – not that he’s not worth trying, because I mean – I um –“ Swerve starts laughing and Trailbreaker gives up, clasping his servos in his lap and moping.  What a mess.

“Get out, Swerve.”  Megatron grumbles, and in a moment the bot leaves.  Another heaving sigh.  Trailbreaker’s gaze burns holes into the floor as Megatron crosses back behind the desk, sits down, and places the energon in front of Trailbreaker. 

“You, uh, you don’t think he’ll tell anyone about my, um –“ He gestures with his arm.  “Do you?”

Sipping his own foul energon, Megatron says, “He didn’t see it.”

But… how could he not?  It was a huge mark across his forearm for all to see, covered by an even more revealing medical gel.  How… “Oh.”  Heat rising in his face, Trailbreaker realizes.  “You blocked his line of sight.  Um.  Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”  Megatron smiles at him, and Trailbreaker can help but grin back.  It’s the first time he’s really felt happy in weeks.  “Trailbreaker, if you ever feel the need to speak to someone, or you  - you have any problems… you know you can come to me?”

Flushing further, Trailbreaker nodded.  “I – I will, I promise.  Thank you.  I can’t thank you enough.”

Megatron chuckles, his smile stretching into a smirk.  “Well, then.  I think perhaps you should head to berth, you need your rest.”

A spike of fear runs through him.  “I… right.”  Of course.  He has to go and rest, it’s not like he can linger here and impede the Captain, clinging to him like a sparkling… He stands hurriedly.  “Of course.  Good night, sir.”

“Trailbreaker.”  He stops at the door.  “I didn’t mean that as a dismissal.  If you – don’t feel comfortable being alone…”  Heat rising from his spark chamber, the bot turns,  feeling more embarrassed than he thinks he’s ever felt.  He looks to Megatron and to his great surprise, the once-feared Leader of the Decepticons looks… nervous.  “There is a berth down the hall here, if you’d like to use it.”

“But…”  Glancing the direction Megatron motioned to, Trailbreaker gawks.  “That’s yours, isn’t it?  I – I couldn’t – where would you sleep?”

Another chuckle.  “I’ve suffered many a sleepless night, Trailbreaker, one more won’t terminate me.  Not to mention all this paperwork Ultra Magnus is breathing down my neck for.”

Frowning, Trailbreaker shakes his head.  “I appreciate the offer, but I couldn’t take it knowing you’d be hurting yourself doing so.  You’re the Captain!   You need your rest.”  But, he can admit he really does not want to be alone.  “… we could share?”

Faceplates flushing, Trailbreaker manages to meet Megatron’s optics and sees a surprised, and almost sultry, look there.  He’s smirking again.  “Why, Trailbreaker.  I’d almost think you were ‘trying’ something.”  The mech laughs at Trailbreaker’s embarrassed floundering at the mention of his earlier gaff.

“I’m not – I mean not that I wouldn’t – that is, I’d like to – if you’d – like to?”

Spark thrumming nervously in his chest, Trailbreaker stares at the floor – until a pair of pedes impedes his vision.  Helm snapping up, he sees Megatron smiling, right in front of him.

“I’d like to.”  He says, and extends a hand. 

For the second time that night, Trailbreaker gives him a real smile.  


End file.
